


Lies, Truths,   and High-heeled       Boots

by glitterynessandbooks



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 09:43:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5781055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterynessandbooks/pseuds/glitterynessandbooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clary Fray's roommate is hellbent on seducing everyone in sight, and she's not failing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Setting the scene with a little Lightwood sibling interaction! Please comment reactions or suggestions down below!

Clary pressed her face against the car window, staring at the campus of the Institute. Everywhere she looked, she saw people, despite the fact that students still had a week left to arrive. People were sitting on rooftops, playing cards. Parents were helping children carry sofas and boxes into dorms. A group of boys were decked out in rock climbing equipment, and were scrambling up the side of them clock tower. A couple of people were even swimming in a fountain covered in disapproving-looking cherubs. Clary smiled. Clearly, this place would be very different from her old school.

Clary was shaken out of her reverie by the car pulling to a stop in front of a large house with a plaque above the door reading "The Tessa Gray House"

"This is it," said Jocelyn Fray, turning to look at her daughter. Clary's hair was ablaze with sunlight, falling around her shoulders in curls of fire. The girl grinned, her face lighting up with excitement.

"This is it," she echoed.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clary was aware that the Institute would be different from her old school, and not just in terms of the teaching methods.Part of the purpose of the school was to teach responsibility and self-sufficiency. For one thing, instead of large dorm buildings, students lived in houses with the others in their year. Instead of eating in a cafeteria, they made their own food in their kitchen. However, the school pamphlet had not prepared Clary for the reality of them Institute.

As she entered her dorm house, she began to grasp just how different the Institute really was. The first person she met was carrying a large sword (hopefully fake) and was dressed in chain mail. She seemed nice, though, and told Clary that the pink room (her house had colored rather than numbered rooms) was the first door on the right on the third floor, "The one with all the unfairly attractive and talented people."

Clary thanked her and moved on, weaving around boxes and suitcases. When Clary got to the door painted with the words "The Pink Room" she knocked tentatively, suddenly shy.

"It's open," called a girl from inside. Clary awkwardly pushed open the door with her hip, trying to balance her box.

For a moment, she stared. Chainmail girl hadn't been kidding. Clary couldn't speak for their talent, but the room was indeed full of unfairly attractive people. A girl was sprawled on one bed, raven black hair sprawled across her pillow, legs weighed down by stiletto heels hanging off the side. On the other bed, this one without sheets or pillowcases, sat a boy, perhaps a year or two older than Clary, obviously related to the girl. The two of them were like a matching set, with chocolate colored eyes and jet hair. Perched on a desk was a second boy, his hair a pale blonde, eyes a startling gold, the perfect foil to the others' dark beauty.

Clary was snapped out of her reverie by the girl's tinkling laugh.

"You must be Clary," smiled the girl, eyes sparkling with an inside joke. "I'm Isabelle, your roommate. This is my brother Alec-" Here the girl gestured to the boy on the bed "-and this is our adoptive brother and his roommate, Jace," she finished, pointing to the boy on the desk. She turned to her brother. "Alec, get off Clary's bed." With a sigh, Alec obligingly heaved himself off the bed, but he didn't look happy about it. Clary attempted an awkward wave, forgetting about her box, and almost fell over trying to keep ahold of it.

Isabelle made a clucking noise. "Why, you're barely bigger than that box you're carrying. Don't you have any help? Now why don't you big strong boys go help Clary get her things, so she crushed by her cargo."

"You know, for a feminist you don't seem to have any problems using gender roles to get what you want," muttered Jace. Isabelle glared at him, and Jace jumped off the desk, gave his sister a sarcastic bow, and walked over to Clary.

"So where's your stuff, little girl?" Recognizing that it would be pointless to argue, Clary sighed.

"Follow me. And my name's not little girl."


	2. Small emergencies and steps in the right direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I saved it as "Isabelle is a creepy stalker and cooks," which just about sums it up, plus some (slightly flirty) background info.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you like this, and please, please, please leave me feedback in the comments! This was written over several days, so the syntax might change at random points. Oh well.

Clary woke up to find Isabelle staring at her. She flinched back in surprise.

“Who are you, Edward Cullen? Why the hell are you watching me sleep?”

Isabelle snorted. “Please. I’m much better looking than some vampire.” Ignoring Clary’s second question, Isabelle continued. “You must have been really tired after carrying all those boxes. You missed breakfast. Sophie made pancakes. Don’t worry, though, I’ll fix you something to eat.” Clary blinked at Isabelle’s offer, but agreed, and pulled herself out of bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clary looked up from the pamphlet on first aid classes to see Isabelle emerging into the waiting room.Clary rose to greet her.

“Are you okay? Oh my god, that bandage looks huge!” Clary was too busy examining Isabelle’s hand to notice Isabelle’s siblings enter the room. Jace looked resigned, and carried what looked like a balm of some kind, but Alec was angry. He turned on Clary.

“Why would you let her cook? Look what happened. You’re lucky no one else got hurt,” Alec yelled, gesturing expressively. Isabelle put her unburned hand on her brother’s arm.

“Calm down,” said Jace, rolling his eyes. “How was she supposed to know Isabelle would burn herself? Clary’s known her for less than a day. You should be angry at Isabelle for cooking.”

“She was just making eggs,” said Clary helplessly. “How do you mess up eggs that badly?”

 

When Alec’s car pulled up to the Tessa Gray House, Simon was waiting for Clary. Clary got out, and Simon grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Next time you go to the ER, please text me more that ‘at hospital, have food waiting when I get back, ttyl.’ I was worried sick! I thought you had gotten hurt or something! Just… I’m very angry at you.”

Clary sighed. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I just wasn’t thinking, I guess. Isabelle burnt her hand pretty badly, but the doctors say she should be fine in a couple of weeks.” For the first time, Simon noticed Isabelle, standing to the side in a very low cut dress. He stared for a few moments, Isabelle smirking, until Clary stepped on his foot. Simon blinked out of his reverie, and stuck out a hand.

“Simon Lewis. I’m Clary’s friend.”

“A handshake. How formal,” Isabelle purred, shaking Simon’s hand. Clary thought that Isabelle held on a little longer than necessary, and tried not to frown. Not even halfway through her first day at the Institute, and her roommate was already trying to seduce her best friend. Typical.

“Also,” Simon added, “I’m pretty sure there’s still some leftover bacon at my dorm.”

“Oh, Raziel, that sounds delicious,” breathed Isabelle. “I might want to get changed first, though,” she added, looking down ruefully at her ashy and slightly burned dress.

 

The three of them sat at Simon’s kitchen table, eating bacon and stale muffins.

“So,” Isabelle said, “What do you do?”

“Um, I do a lot of things,” Simon said, sounding confused. “As you can see, I make some mean bacon, despite being a veg-“

“No, silly,” interjected Isabelle, laughing. “What are you here to do? What got you into the Shadowhunter Institute for gifted teens?” Isabelle gestured rather irreverently around the shabby little kitchen.

Simon’s face cleared. “Oh, I sing, and I play the guitar, so I guess it says music on my acceptance letter. I had a band, but we broke up this summer because, you know, I probably won’t see them as much... What about you?”

“Dance,” said Isabelle, the side of her mouth twisting up into a smile. “I’m kind of all over the place. Lots of ballet, but that’s more my brother’s area. I mean, I don’t know if I really have any talent at all. I could be absolute shit and they’d still accept me. My dad is the principal, so I never really had a choice about going. Hey, Clary, you never did mention what you do.”

“Art,” Clary grinned, more relaxed now that they were talking about something she was comfortable with. “I paint, I draw, I’m all over the place, just like you. I think I’m going to focus on watercolor more, though. I don’t really know.” Clary blushed at her babbling. Isabelle had probably just asked her to be polite. _She’s interested in Simon, not you, idiot_.

“Art, huh? Maybe you could draw me sometime,” Isabelle suggested. Clary glanced over at her roommate. Isabelle was made to be drawn, jet hair cascading down her back, lounging in her chair like it was a throne, panther-like grace showing itself in her every movement.

“I’d love to draw you,” Clary said.

“Wonderful,” replied Isabelle, staring at Clary until the redhead flushed and turned away.


End file.
